


you made me do this, b-baka

by The_Female_Gaymer



Series: Gaymer's Requests [3]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Crack, M/M, Robot Princess Bubblegum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Female_Gaymer/pseuds/The_Female_Gaymer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crack fic. Trevor shows up to Michael's house in attire bizarre even for him. Read or not, whatever, it's dumb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you made me do this, b-baka

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this snippet of conversation with a friend. They can claim credit if they want but we'll see.
> 
> me  
> 11:06 PM  
> i-it's not like i like you or anything, commander b-baka
> 
> C.S.  
> 11:07 PM  
> Please _____ doesn't have the Japanese option on her translator, well not yet anyways
> 
> me  
> 11:07 PM  
> XD i just really think the word baka is funny
> 
> C.S.  
> 11:07 PM  
> I've noticed  
> Dare, Trevor saying that to Michael
> 
> me  
> 11:08 PM  
> i nearly cackled XD  
> oh my god but HE WOULD DO IT TOO
> 
> C.S.  
> 11:08 PM  
> do it, Do it, DO IT!!!!!

“What in the absolute fuck are you doing.”

It wasn’t a question. You simply can’t ask a question to Trevor Philips when he’s doing something as bizarre and out of character as this. The most anyone can do in response to something like this is make a statement about it and pray that he explains himself. More often than not, he’ll get defensive, perhaps even violent, but if you were lucky, he would just put on that stupid all-knowing smirk and talk down to you like you were twelve. Michael knew it, and at this point, honestly wasn’t sure which Trevor he preferred.

“What do you mean?” Trevor smirked crookedly, playing dumb as he jutted out his left hip and put his hands on his sides. So it was the smirk today. Alright then.

Michael grew cross as he gestured to what the crazed Canadian was wearing. He tried not to look put-off by the whole scenario, and was failing miserably. Trevor was just so scantily clad, it was hard not to be fazed by it.

“What the fuck is this? What are you wearing? What is this… this bullshit?”

Trevor frowned, re-adjusting the triangular bits of pink fabric just barely covering his nipples, then reaching behind him and adjusting the thin strap between his asscheeks. The thigh-high purple and silver stockings, along with the oversized purple bow atop his head, caused him to took almost comical.

“What? I thought most forty-something year olds with a daddy kink  _ liked _ Robot Princess Bubblegum.”

Now that made Michael mad. He always despised it when Trevor claimed that he had a daddy kink (maybe lowkey, but not enough to point it out or even act on it, for Chrissakes). He scowled at Trevor, standing up from his couch to stare at him with annoyed ire. “I don’t have a fucking daddy kink, you asshole.” He plucked the bow from Trevor’s head, inspecting it, before dropping it to the ground. His face curled into a smirk as he looked at Trevor again. “Jesus fucking christ, you look ridiculous.”

“Well,” Trevor snapped, “it got your attention, Senpai.”

Michael screwed up his face and knit his brow. Trevor was always calling him insulting crap, like a fucking snake or sugar-tits, but that was a new one. And he had no idea what it meant. “What the fuck is a Senpai?”

Trevor grew even more angry and defensive than before, his face going red. His shoulders tensed, before he shook his head in defeat. “God, fuck, this was stupid,” he grumbled, and he tugged off the tiny bra with just a finger, the thin, flimsy material breaking and falling to the floor in a small heap. “It’s not like this meant anything to me or something, b-baka.”

He was reaching for his stockings next, but Michael stopped him with a stern hand around his wrist. That took Trevor by surprise, and he looked up at Michael with confused eyes.

“Answer me, Trevor,” Michael commanded. “Don’t just avoid the topic or weasel your way out of it when you get frustrated.” He looked down, and snickered. “Jesus, that underwear’s puny, your dick’s practically hanging out of the damn thing.”

Trevor wrested his hand out of Michael’s grasp. “So you don’t like anime then.”

The older man rolled his eyes. “You know me, Trevor,” Michael replied. “You know me better than that. I like the old shit. Black and white films with cliché plots and romantic undertones. Pervy cartoons don’t exactly do it for me. That’s Lester’s domain. But you still haven’t answered my question. What’s a Senpai?”

Trevor threw his head back, clenching his teeth in annoyance. Michael could tell he was somewhat embarrassed by the whole situation, since none of it had gone to plan, whatever that plan may have been. “Basically, a Senpai is someone of a higher social standing than yourself, or someone you somewhat revere. I thought I’d stroke your ego a little, put you up on a temporary, theoretical pedestal, but no, you didn’t have a fucking clue what I was going on about.”

Michael made a hum of interest, hands on his hips. He was looking Trevor up and down with narrowed eyes. So this was some sort of roleplay thing that hadn’t quite gone to plan, and now Trevor was throwing a fit. That was pretty fucking hilarious, but Michael wasn’t about to make the mistake of laughing about it to Trevor’s face. “And what’s a baka? Don’t think I didn’t hear that.”

“It means dumbass,” Trevor snorted.

Michael reared back at that, offended. Just because Trevor was angry didn’t mean he had to get Michael all riled up, too. “I ain’t no baka,” Michael barked. “If anything,  _ you’re  _ the baka, thinking I’d be in to this shit. Jesus, this is ridiculous. Why are we having this fucking conversation? Take your fucking Japanese slang and shove it down the shitter.”

Trevor snarled at Michael, pacing the length of the living room. Michael was grateful that Amanda wasn’t home; this was one of the last things he wanted to have to explain to her. And watching Trevor’s limp dick bounce around in those stupid little pink panties was somewhat traumatizing.

“I don’t know, I thought it might be something you’d be in to. The fucking kawaii Japanese girl act, you know? Something small, and frail, and innocent. Something to demoralize and destroy. You’ve always had a fucking thing for taking away people’s innocence, sexually or not. I see that hungry look in your eyes. You like being the instigator. So I thought you’d like this kind of shit, too.”

“Well, I don’t,” Michael snapped. He eyed Trevor one last time, before adding, “but the outfit  _ does _ look good on you. I’m digging the stockings, at the very least. But the whole anime shebang is a no-go. But stockings look good on you.”

Trevor’s disposition about the situation made a complete 180; now, instead of seemingly being embarrassed and peeved, his confidence had been returned, and he smirked widely at Michael, daring to take a step closer to him. “Do they now?”

“Yeah,” Michael confirmed, eyes sparkling. “They make your legs look more feminine. You know I swing more towards femininity than anything else.”

“Oh, I do,” Trevor confirmed, thinking back to his wardrobe and the few dresses he had saved in there for his own personal wear-- and sometimes for Michael, if he was feeling particularly sexy. “Maybe I should just forgo the stupid anime shit and get my schoolgirl on, eh?”

Michael laughed, clapping Trevor on the shoulder. “Maybe, T, Maybe. Now if only you could learn to maneuver the pole, I’d die a happy man.”

“Hey,” Trevor interjected excitedly, “I know a couple moves. It’s nothing spectacular like what Sapphire or those other girls can do, but I’ve got a few things under my sleeve.”

Michael grunted in amusement, sitting back down on his couch, and Trevor joined him, sitting by his side. Michael poured him a drink, and grabbed at his own, swirling it around. “You’ll have to show me sometime. Maybe I’ll find you a Japanese schoolgirl outfit. Only then would I let your say that stupid anime bullshit. And no calling me fucking baka, alright? You only get to say the positive stuff.”

“What, you think I’m a walking Japanese dictionary?” Trevor scoffed at Michael, downing half of what he’d been poured in one gulp. “I’ll wear the outfit, but I get to call you what I want. You won’t be able to tell the difference anyways. Baka.”

Michael slugged Trevor in the arm, and Trevor snickered, crossing his legs in front of him. Michael licked his lips momentarily, before returning his attention to the TV.

“You can stick around,” he warned, “but if Amanda gets home before you leave, you’ll have to bail out the back door. I don’t want her knowing your bare ass cheeks have been on the couch.”

“That, or,” Trevor intoned playfully, throwing one covered leg over Michael’s thighs and scooting closer to his body, “we can get a little saucy right here on the couch, take the risk. Eh? Eh? Come on, it’d be fun.”

“No,” Michael insisted, pushing Trevor off of him, and Trevor pouted.

“Fuck you, you’re no fun.” Trevor leaned back, hands behind his head, and  _ oh my God he put on perfume _ , Michael realized. His throat closed up at the scent as Trevor continued to speak. “Fine. I’ll go find a skimpy little school skirt to parade around in. Will you fuck me on your couch then?”

“We’ll see,” Michael could barely contain his laughter.

What the fuck just happened?

**Author's Note:**

> Kick my ass.
> 
> I'm sorting this under "Gaymer's Requests" series because it was kind of asked of me to be written.
> 
> Tumblr: the-female-gaymer.tumblr.com


End file.
